Mischief Managed
by justShyofharmony
Summary: I was in love with George from day one. Five years later, I'm sick of just friendship. But how do you take the leap from best friends to more? Please read and review! :
1. Platform 9 34

Flashback—

I walked down the platform, searching for a way to reach the train. My Muggle parents had already left me on my own, so it looked like I was going to have to figure this out on my own. I scoped out the area, looking for someone who looked vaguely wizard-like, or anything out of the ordinary. No luck. I leaned against the wall and slumped down dejectedly. Looks like I wasn't getting to Hogwarts. But wait! A family with flaming red hair and a screeching owl were loading up their things. Most Muggles definitely didn't have owls for pets. I moved in a little closer, hoping they wouldn't notice me staring at them. I looked at the tallest child. He was thin and gangly, squinting from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. All of his belongings were meticulously organized into his cart. He looked like he knew what he was doing. He took a deep breath, a few steps forward, and WHOOSH. He had run somewhere with his cart, but where...? An older, thinner man was about to follow him. I focused all of my attention on him, hoping to see where he went. The man ran a hand through his thin red hair, inhaled deeply, and ran. I blinked several times. He had run into the wall. There was no way that was right. I kept looking at the family.

Along with the older man and his son, there were five others. I assumed that one of them was the mother; she was much larger and older-looking than the rest of the children, and she was scolding them. The young child next to her was swinging on her arm, swishing her long, red hair around. She looked no older than nine. A few feet away from them was a red-faced boy, wearing a sweater and too-short trousers. He waited a few moments until the mother had turned around, and poked her as hard as he could in the ribs. She screeched and stumbled before turning to playfully swack at the boy's head. The three redheads began to play-fight, bursting into laughter and hugging. And then I noticed the other two boys.

They were standing a few meters away from the others, lounging against a wall. Besides their flaming red hair, they looked different from the rest of the family; the boys themselves, however, looked exactly the same. They were a few inches taller than me, and had the bodies of soccer players; lean, and not overly muscular, but obviously strong. The one on the left was digging around in his pockets, looking for something. The one on the right had his arms crossed around his well-built chest, and was laughing at whatever his brother had said as his eyes swept around the platform. He began to look in my general direction, slowly getting closer. I was about to duck away, but then he did it. Looked into my eyes, that is. His eyes were blue; bluer than the sky or the ocean or any blue I had ever seen in my life. They were incredible, almost piercing, and easygoing and trusting. Still, they held a mischievous gleam. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile as he ran his hand through his hair. He winked at me. Did he really just wink at me? My heart soared into my chest and I felt like I was flying. I decided I needed to know this boy. I marched . . . correction. I forced myself over towards the mother and the two younger children. I spluttered a few times before finally choking out what I wanted to say. "Excuse me, but could you show me how to get onto the platform?"


	2. Quidditch, anyone?

5th year—

I sat in the Gryffindor common room, staring at my Ancient Runes book, dreading the O.W.L.S. "I know I'm going to fail!" I thought miserably.

"What's that you say, Erin?" a voice called.

"I didn't say anything..." I replied.

"Something about failing," George stated as he sat down next to me.

"I said that out loud?" I gasped.

"Apparently so, my insane little friend," he said, smiling at me. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he stuck his out back. I poked him. He poked me back. We launched into a full blown tickle war, wrestling and grabbing all over each other. Immature? Maybe. But it gave me an excuse to touch him, and I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I couldn't believe my luck. This was George Weasley, the boy I had seen on the platform, the one I was so deeply in love with. And now we were best friends. This was perfect.

Except for the fact that he probably looked at me like a sister. But oh well. Attention is attention, I guess.

I ran up to the girls' dorm, hoping he would follow me. He did; of course he did. He was predictable, but only because I knew him inside and out. I jumped up to the first landing, just barely staying on. He tried to do the same. The second his feet hit the stone floor, the steps smoothed over into a slide, and George tumbled down onto his back. He let out a moan of pain. Oops. That wasn't in the plan. I rushed down to his side and bent over his face. "George! Are you alright?"

"I might.. be.." he said, taking a long, labored breath. "Hard.. to breathe.."

I crouched down to him even further, so we were only inches away. My eyes crinkled in worry as they gazed into his. Once again I was amazed at his eyes. Both of our eyes were the same color, but he seemed to be able to contain all of his emotion in a single glance. When I looked at him, I really could believe that the eyes were the windows to the soul. His eyes held everything that I was in love with, from his compassion and his affections, to his laughter and mischief.

"Don't try to talk. Just try to breath," I whispered as I gazed at him in worry.

"Maybe a little mouth-to-mouth CPR might help?" he said waggling his eyebrows seductively, as a grin spread across his face.

"Faker!" I screamed. "You scared the crap out of me!" I beat down hard on his chest, holding back nothing now that I was assured he was okay.

"Well that's what you get when you have me knocked down a flight of stairs," he said. He smoothly grabbed my arms and rolled us over so that he had me pinned underneath him. He leaned in forward, breathing heavily, that same teasing grin on his face. I looked hopefully into his eyes, those stunning eyes I loved..

"Excuse me? What kind of debauchery is going on here?" Fred asked, strutting down from the boy's dormitory.

"Oh wouldn't you like to know, brother," George started, once again raising his eyebrows.

Heat rushed to my face and I could feel myself blushing. "How about we play a game?" I quickly suggested. "Quidditch! Doesn't that sound like a lot of fun, guys? Let's go. Right now." I grabbed George by the arm and dragged him out of the Common Room. Fred followed and we made our way down to the Quidditch field. I loved the field. It was huge and open, and it felt like you could see every star in the sky. It was packed with memories of staying out late every night with the twins, my best friends, my brother and my love, the other two parts of me. This night was just the same. We took turns rotating between Chaser, Keeper, and Beater, playing and playing and playing until finally Filch had to come kick us out and send us back to bed.


	3. Have to Have Her

GPOV—

"I'm going back to the common room. See you guys tomorrow?" Erin said.

"Sure thing," Fred and I replied in unison. She darted off toward the Fat Lady's portrait and crawled through, with her long, chestnut hair dancing behind her. She was incredible.

I couldn't believe she was my best friend. She was shorter than most girls, but thin and graceful like a dancer. All of her Quidditch practice had given her a little bit of muscle, but nothing disgusting. Her hair was long, straight, shiny, and the most magnificent color. It was a chestnut brown, but when the sun hit it, a million different hues shone out. Her skin was fair and clear, and her cheeks were perpetually pink; she blushed at everything. Her large grey-blue eyes were framed by long black lashes that she batted playfully whenever she was feeling flirty. Her teeth were straight and white, and definitely my favorite thing about her. Her smile was warm and loving and could cheer up absolutely anybody. One day after a long Quidditch practice, she confided in me that the reason her front teeth were so perfect was because they were fake. Back when she was eight, before she knew she was a witch, she hit herself in the face with a shovel, knocking out her front teeth and giving her a bloody lip. She had gotten the bloody gap in her smile replaced with smoother and whiter replicas of the original teeth. If you looked at the bottom corner of the left tooth, you could see a tiny chip. I loved that chip. It was so cute. Everything about her was. She was beautiful.

And somebody else was going to tell her that before I did. I saw the way guys stared at her. Always, whenever she moved, dozens of eyes would follow. It made me sick to think about what was running through their heads. I mean, who wouldn't want to run their hands through that long hair and kiss all over her perfect face, and neck, and..

Uh. Anyway. Back on topic. I knew someone else was going to tell her. I had to get to her before anyone else did. I'd wanted her for years and she was just getting more attractive as time went on. Between fourth and fifth year, she had gotten her braces off, and gotten a bit more.. developed. If I hesitated any longer, some git like Oliver or Blaise would get her. I had to get her. Now.

My mind was made up. Tomorrow after Quidditch practice, she would be mine.


	4. Stupid Oliver!

EPOV—

I panted as I stepped off of my broomstick, exhausted from the past few hours of rigorous practice. Oliver really liked to push us. At least he had determination, I guess. That wasn't much consolation when I knew I had bruises on my legs from hitting against the broom so many times. But there was no reason to complain. I loved Quidditch. I loved everything about it. I only joined the team to have more time with George, but after that, I found that I was in love with the freedom and the power that flying gave me. I felt like I could escape all of my feelings of loneliness and rejection that came whenever George flirted with other girls, or gave me a brotherly smile.

Not to mention I was the best damn Chaser in the world.

Oliver thought so too, apparently. He came up and threw a sweaty arm around my shoulders. "Good practice today, Halpert!" he said, grinning at me.

"Pretty good yourself, Wood," I said, smiling up at him. He was pretty irritating on the field, but otherwise he was really fun to be around. Pretty cute too.

"You've made such a big improvement in the past few weeks. I mean I always knew you were good, but damn, Erin. You're definitely our star Chaser," he said, pulling me a bit closer to him. I was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. Cute can only get you so far. I looked around for George, but he was too busy talking to Angelina Johnson. I coughed a few times, desperately hoping that he would hear. After a particularly obnoxious wheeze, he finally looked up. "Maybe we could have a few private lessons? Work on your chasing? How does that sound?" Wood said, dropping his hand from my shoulder down to my waist and squeezing my side. The smile on George's face dissolved once he saw Wood's hands on me. A shadow seemed to cross his face.

_Good, _I thought._ He sees my predicament._

But instead of coming to save me like I had anticipated, he turned and started walking back up to the castle. A few steps in, he turned and gave me a nasty look.

_Are you kidding me?_

"Yeah sure Oliver, maybe some other time. I really have to go, so if you'll excuse me.." I said as I threw Wood's arm off me. I ignored his disappointed expression as I bounded off towards the castle. By the time I had gotten to the doors, George already had a good head start. Not to mention his legs were several inches longer than mine.

I sprinted up the staircases and emerged panting in the Common Room. George sat with Fred and Angelina next to the fireplace, playing a game of cards. I stormed over to them. "What the bloody hell was that all about?" I said a little too loudly. A group of second years at a table near us turned to look at me, but I ignored them.

"Excuse me?" George replied coolly, looking at me for merely a second before going back to the game.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Why did you leave me like that? I called you!"

"I'm not a dog, Erin. Just because you call me doesn't mean I'll come running back to you," George spat. "Besides," he added, "you seemed to be managing perfectly fine with your boyfriend."

"What's this about a boyfriend?" Fred said as he and Angelina looked up.

"Erin is taking 'private Quidditch lessons' from Oliver. That's funny, because I didn't think she really needed help. After all, you are the star Chaser, right?" he said, turning towards me. "Tell me, has he let you ride his broomstick yet?"

"How could you do this?" I whispered and ran outside. I went down the stairs, through the corridors, and through the Great Hall, ignoring the jeers of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. They were rich and incredibly good-looking, but horribly mean, worse-tempered than Geor- worse-tempered than anyone. I sprinted outside through the bridges and past Hagrid's hut, to a lone tree near the curve of the lake, and just stood there. It felt like hours until the cold and fatigue finally hit me, and I collapsed into the snow. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind going through the trees and over the lake. I closed my eyes a few times before falling into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of being married to Oliver and seeing George's eyes full of hatred and disappointment.

When I woke up, I heard another sets of lungs next to me. I blinked my eyes a few times trying to remember where I was and what had happened. Slowly, the blur on my left became clear, and I saw George curled in the snow beside me. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. I snuggled in close next to him and he wrapped his warm arms around me, pulling me tight. I nuzzled into his t-shirt, sniffling as fresh tears came.

"I'm getting (hiccup) your (sniff) shirt wet, George (hiccup)," I managed to choke out.

He stroked my head and quietly murmured, "It's alright, Erin; it's better now."

"I'm (sniff) sorry I'm (hiccup) so immature," I whispered.

"It's alright," he murmured again. "I'm just happy I get a chance to be with you alone. I want to explain myself."

"No, I'm just glad it's ov—" I started.

"No. You have to hear me out," he said, a little forcefully. He was silent for a minute, and I listened to the sound of his deep breathing. "I'm sorry," he said, a little quieter this time. "I had this perfect plan for how the day was going to go, and Wood just destroyed the whole thing. Goddamn prick," he said. He was silent a little more before continuing.

"You see, Erin, you're quite beautiful."

My stomach seemed to rise up into my rib cage as my heart beat frantically above it. I could feel my face grow warm. I turned to look up at him, but he was faced straight ahead, looking up at the stars. "I'm not gonna look at you, or I'll get embarrassed and stop," he said. I smiled a bit and nestled my face back into his warm neck. "Anyways," he continued, "I kind of like you. A lot. Guys seem to flock to you, and I know that the longer I wait, the more boys you'll meet. And you might just fall in love with one of them." He paused for a moment, and continued in an unsure voice. "I need you to know that I want my chance. I really like you and I just need to try because if I never told you, I would regret it for the rest of my life. If you don't feel the same, we can laugh this off and forget about it, but. . ." he trailed off. I sat there in pure bliss for a few seconds, savoring every detail of what had just happened.

"How long have you thought I was beautiful?" I asked him.

"From the very first second I saw you at Platform 9 ¾. I remember worrying that you wouldn't be in my house once we got to Hogwarts, or that you would think I was weird, or like Fred more, or. . ." He abruptly turned his head and held my face between his hands.

_How could his hands still feel so warm in the middle of the winter?_

He looked deeply into my eyes for a few moments, and I felt that all of the love and care and emotion in our relationship was held in that one gaze. His eyes, those stunning eyes. I remembered looking at them on that first ride to Hogwarts. I remembered sitting across from them at lunch, every day. I remembered gazing into them from across the table in Potions, hoping he wouldn't catch me. I remembered every single dream I had ever had, being merely centimeters from those perfect blue eyes, anticipating this desperate, momentous moment, and it was finally happening. He leaned in slowly and pressed his soft lips to mine. His soft, warm hands held me in place as his thumbs stroked my cheeks.

It was the most perfect and beautiful kiss that I could ever imagine. Finally. This was what I had been dreaming of for the past five years, and it was every bit as magnificent as I could have hoped for. I knew from that first kiss that I would never, ever be able to leave this boy.

He gently pulled back and smiled at me. "So, you will be my girlfriend, right?" he said with a grin.

"Of course, George," I whispered, beaming back at him.

_I wouldn't have it any other way._


	5. Meeting the Family

GPOV—

We had to get up early to get on the train to head home to the Burrow. But as early as we got up, I still had enough time to have a bit of fun. . .

"BLOODY HELL! THAT'S NOT FUNNY, FRED!"

Lee Jordan ran from his room, his dreadlocks French braided together and put in a bun on the side of his head. "I didn't do it!" exclaimed Fred. "It was probably George!" I immediately resumed packing and put on as straight a face as I could.

"Hmm?" I said.

Lee looked at me suspiciously, then turned back on Fred. "That couldn't have been George! How would HE know how to French braid?"

"How would I know how to French braid?" Fred shouted. I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. The boys both turned on me and glared.

"Why would you do that?" Lee exploded.

Then Fred: "Where did you learn to French braid?"

I fell to the floor, erupting into giggles and guffaws and chuckles and laughter and everything else. Fred and Lee just stared at me for a few moments. I knew they would get me back hard for this one.

A few hours later, after we had finished packing and detangling Lee's hair, I waited for Erin where we were supposed to meet parents. I didn't see why we couldn't just take the train, but oh well. I had to admit, I was kind of nervous – this was my first time my mom, and the rest of my family, would acknowledge Erin as my girlfriend. They had known her for five years now, but just as Fred and I's best friend. She was always the cute little girl tagging around with us, and my family loved her. The older brothers all thought she was adorable and teased me and Fred about who would end up getting her. Looks like we got our answer. I wasn't sure how I felt about everyone knowing she was my girlfriend. Don't get me wrong; I was anything but embarrassed. She was beautiful. I knew my brothers would be jealous, Ginny already loved Erin. The only problem that I could see was that my mom had a tendency to be.. protective. And a little bit more. I was pulled from my thoughts when Erin bounded up to me. "Hi George!" she said, hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. I pulled away in mock horror.

"Only a kiss on the CHEEK?" I pretended to look offended. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me back.

"Sorry, Georgey. Let's try again." She took a few steps back and bounded forward again, throwing her arms around my neck and giving me and enthusiastic kiss on the lips. "Hi George! I missed you!" she said with the bounciness of a cheerleader.  
>"That's more like it," I sighed, and hugged her tighter.<p>

"Get a room," Ron muttered. Harry stifled a laugh as Hermione slapped them both on the arm.

"You're just jealous you're not getting any." I turned to Hermione, adding "Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're not missing much." I said as I slapped Ron in the face. He sulked for the next few minutes and complained about not getting to take the train until I saw Mum and Dad approaching.

I gently pulled away from Erin by reflex. She turned and her eyebrows wrinkled with confusion and hurt. I realized what I had done and took her small, warm hand back in mine as the two figures approached. One was taller, balding, and thinner than most—had to be Dad. The other was shorter, stouter, and much more enthusiastic than was necessary. She ran forward as Dad lagged behind, though he was grinning as much as she. "Fred! Ginny! Ron, Hermione, Harry!" she called out, with a hugs for all between every name. She stepped over in my direction. "George! How is Hogwarts? I've missed you, dearie. You are behaving yourself, aren't you? Oh! And Erin's here!"

"Hold on, I'd like to do this properly," I said, and took a deep breath. "Everyone say hello to my _girlfriend_, Erin." I stepped back, letting everyone see her. But this time, they would see her differently. As 'George's amazing girlfriend,' not 'Fred & George's friend who visits a lot'. Mom gaped. And stared. OPENLY.

_Jeez, thanks for the support.._

I squeezed Erin's hand tightly as we waited for the judge's verdict. She remained silent for a few more seconds, gaping some more. I couldn't blame her. George? With a GIRL? Finally she enclosed both of us in a suffocating hug that lasted just a bit too lonbg. When she finally pulled back, she just about screamed in delight.

"Oh, George, that's WONDERFUL! Just spectacular! Oh, Erin! Thank you so much!" By the way she went on and on about how nice of her it was to date me, I was beginning to think someone was paying her, or she was just doing this on a dare, or a bet, or to be nice. But then she turned to me and smiled. Everything was alright.


	6. Heating Up

EPOV –

George and I snuck outside the back door quickly after dinner. He held my hand as he guided me through the garden and into the forest to a clearing – not that I needed him to show me the way. We had come here every day of Christmas break.

George and I lay down next to each other, right near a pond, where the stars reflected off of the glassy surface. We tossed our favorite pink blanket over us and his fingers laced between mine. I listened to his breathing, and it reminded me of the day, less than two weeks ago, when he finally told me how he felt about me. Since that moment, we rarely stopped touching. I was constantly grabbing his hand, and his arms were always snaked around my hips, or his fingers were playing with my hair. I didn't want to lose a second of being with him.

I turned my face to look at him and smiled, realizing how lucky I was. He looked back at me with a grin. "What're you smiling about?"

"You, and how cute you are," I replied in a sing-song voice.

"Cute? Why not handsome? Breathtaking? Masculine? Sexy. That fits me. You should have gone with a more manly adjective."

"But I'm not entirely sure you are manly, George," I said, smirking.

With a growl, he threw the blankets off and positioned himself over me on his hands and knees, his hips pressed against mine. I was effectively pinned down. He roughly kissed me, his tongue immediately finding its way into my mouth. He planted kisses from the corner of my lips down the side of my face until he reached my neck. He kissed around, searching for that sweet spot. He quickly found it and began his assault, sucking and nibbling until I could barely contain myself. He pulled my hands up over my head and held them in place as he viciously went at my neck again. I whimpered and pushed my hips up to meet his, wanting more contact. I broke a hand free of his grasp, and my fingers found the bottom of his shirt. I pulled it up over his head and rolled myself on top of him, marveling in his beautiful, fair skin..

But don't get me wrong. It never went too far. We agreed we wanted _it_ to be special when it finally happened. So we had our limits, and we never passed them. And making out wasn't all we did, either.

Mostly, we talked. We told each other about our pasts and our futures, and gossiped who to hook Fred up with (I said Angelina, but he said that would be too awkward), and pretty much anything else we could think of. I was happy just to be near him. If this was how the rest of school was going to go, then I was excited.


	7. Cats!

"Georgeeee!" I whined, dragging out his name. "Where are you taking me?"

"It's a secret love. Stop with that high voice, you're killing my eardrums."

I scrunched my nose up a few times, hoping to push the bandana around my eyes up a little bit. We'd been walking for at least 15 minutes now, and my feet were starting to hurt, and I was feeling dizzy from walking without vision for so long. Our only conversation consisted of me begging him to tell me where we were headed.

"I don't like surprises," I muttered.

"Bull. You're dating a Weasley twin. There's no way you don't like spontaneity."

Ooh.. he had me there.

After another agonizing five minutes of walking, George finally let me take my blindfold off. What I saw was a bit anticlimactic; we were in front of a blank stretch of hallway. I was feeling disappointed until I realized we must have been in front of the Room of Requirement. How could I not know every secret of Hogwarts, being with Fred and George so often? I remembered the first time I'd ever gone inside of it, in the middle of second year..

"It's so cool! Bill told me about it. I swear it's real!" George said , barely restraining himself from jumping up and down in excitement.

"Oh yeah you know, a magic room that creates absolutely everything that you need to be there. Sounds legit," I sarcastically said back.

"Oh you know, a bunch of people who can start fires and put them out, clean the house in seconds, Apparate to wherever they want, transform themselves into animals.. all with a stick of wood. Wizards sound pretty legit too, eh Erin?" George replied. Ugh. Arrogant boy.

Still, I let him and Fred drag me to the magic hallway, just so I could laugh at them when they were wrong. "Here!" Fred and George said at the same time (and in the same, cocky voice). They walked three times in front of the blank wall and stopped. A door appeared. George's expression was the most arrogant and proud I had ever seen. His grin grew even more as he led me through the aisles of sculptures, paintings, and ancient books. He grabbed my small hand in his and pulled me into a back aisle.

"I think you owe me something for doubting me and mocking me," he said, smirking.

"Fine. Whatever it takes to make you shut up," I muttered. "What do you want?"

He stepped in towards me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I don't know.. I could make you let me see that diary you're always hiding."

"You wouldn't dare."

"No? How about you do my Potions essays for the next two weeks?"

"As if."

He laughed and took a step closer to me. "Well I suppose there's one other thing I'd like.." He turned his head slightly and dipped in, slowly inching towards me. I froze, unsure of what he was going to do, until his lids shut over his perfect blue eyes. He was going to kiss me. George Weasley. No. There was no way.

My heart frantically beat, my stomach churned, and I clenched my palms. What did my breath smell like? What was the last thing I ate? Where do your hands go when you kiss someone..? I was going to mess it up. Oh no. I didn't want to close my eyes for fear of missing, but I shut them as George was almost as close as he could get.

"Oi! George! Did you see the naked sculpture of the goblin over there? Nastiest thing I ever saw," Fred called as he strode down the aisle.

I silently cursed to myself as George leaped away from me. "Oh wow, that certainly sounds revolting.. I have to see," he said, running off with Fred. After a few seconds, he came running back. He reached out and enveloped me in a tight hug. "Sorry love, maybe next time," he said with a wink as he sped off towards George again.

George walked past it three times and the door appeared. The room was plain, with just a white-laced bed and a small crate with a towel over it in the corner. "Sit down on the bed, love," he said. "Now close your eyes and hold out your hands." I obeyed. After about fifteen second he set something into my hands. Something warm and soft and furry, that seemed to be breathing.. I opened my eyes with a start.

A small, grey kitten sat on my hands. It slowly and sleepily blinked its giant, light blue eyes at me and stretched out its limbs as a huge yawn escaped it. It stood up and began to walk around me, sniffing me, before finally nestling itself in a warm ball in my lap. I could practically feel my heart melt as I looked at it, and then up into George's eyes, full of hope and love.

"It's a boy," he said.

"It's perfect," I whispered.

"I thought you could use something to cuddle with for the nights I can't sneak up," he said with a small smile. "At least you have this little guy now."

I gently lifted the kitten off of me and set him back in the crate, on top of a pile of soft blankets George had put in there. I walked up to him and twisted my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy-toes. "So you like him then?" George said in a husky voice. I pressed my lips to his soft, warm mouth and moaned as he slipped his tongue against mine. His fingers trailed down my neck to my chest, rubbing circles on the underside of my breast with his thumb. His lips traveled down to my neck and began to frantically and passionately kiss all over me. His hands moved up until he was cupping my breasts in his hands. "Merlin, you're perfect," he muttered against my neck. He toyed with the bottom of my shirt for a few seconds, running his hands over my stomach before lifting the fabric above my head. His fingers reached around my back and expertly undid my bra strap, and the bra fell, leaving me exposed.

His rough fingers traced my nipples at an excruciatingly slow pace. I arched my back, pushing myself into his hands, and grinding my hips against his, desperately wishing he would go faster. He dipped his head down and licked a path between the swells of my breasts before taking a pert nipple in his mouth. His teeth grazed against it and he worked it with his tongue. He took my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a moan from me. I felt his cock harden against him as his name escaped my lips. He continued to suck and tease my flesh and my stomach slowly tightened into a knot. I reached out for his belt and rapidly undid his jeans, pulling them over his bulge and down his legs. I took his boxer-clad dick in my hand and slowly began to stroke it, desperate to give him the satisfaction he was giving me with every swipe of his tongue against my skin.

The hand toying with my right breast slowly slipped down against my stomach as his mouth replaced it. He ghosted his hand over my belly, raising goosebumps before he traveled further down. His fingers stroked my slit above my panties and I could feel myself growing wet. He pushed a little harder and I bit back a moan. I gripped his cock harder and began to pump as the knot in my stomach just kept growing.

I pushed him back so that he was laying on the bed and took his shirt off. He looked glorious, laying there half naked and aroused, grinning up at me. I crawled on top of him, and his hands grabbed my ass and pulled me even closer. I could feel him, big and thick, nestled against my heat. George and I had made a rule – nothing under pants until we were absolutely sure. Which had to be soon, I thought as he began to lick my neck. I shivered in anticipation of what it would be like with no barriers.

His tongue slipped into my mouth and he kissed my hungrily, gripping my ass hard enough to leave bruises. His hand slid up to my chest again and he pinched my nipples. I pushed myself further down on him, rotating my hips, reveling in the way that his cock twitched up towards me. "God yes, more George," I panted.

I slid up and down against his length, loving the delicious friction against my clit. He bucked up towards me, going faster and faster. His perfect, perfect blue eyes stared at me with an intensity I had never seen in my life. "I can't wait to fuck you," I whispered.

"I'm so close," he panted out. "Come with me."

He kissed me intently, his tongue ravishing my mouth as he quickly pinched my nipples. "George!" I cried as the knot in my stomach exploded. I pushed down harder and faster on him until I heard him grunt. After a few seconds our breathing slowed.

"So more cats, then..?" George said with a smile.


End file.
